Don't Cry for Me

by Rachel Lacey

  This was exactly why the kittens should have stayed with Josie tonight. She’d know what to do. No doubt, she would have had them all fed and cleaned and been back in bed ten minutes ago.

  Eve yawned, eyes watering with fatigue as she glanced at her phone. It felt ridiculous to consider calling Josie in the middle of the night, but she’d told Eve to call with questions at any hour, and in fact, she was probably still at work. She’d said she would be tending bar until two. After the way they’d left things earlier, Eve didn’t want to talk to her again so soon, or at all, really. But if she wanted to get any sleep tonight, she’d better just get it over with.

  Decision made, she picked up her phone, scrolled to Josie’s name, and dialed. It rang twice before Josie answered, sounding somewhat muffled. “Eve?”

  “Yes. Do you have a minute?” Her voice sounded way too loud in the otherwise quiet bedroom.

  “Yeah. I was just closing up. Everything okay?”

  “I thought you worked until two,” Eve said.

  “Well, no one’s here, so I decided to close early.”

  Eve decided to ignore that rather than get into another conversation about the future of the bar. “I can’t get the white one to eat.”

  “Did she eat earlier?” Josie asked, shifting neatly into the role of kitten rescuer.

  “A little bit, but not as much as the other three.”

  “How is she acting otherwise?”

  “Sleepy, lethargic.” Eve looked down at the kitten in her lap.

  “Is she warm?”

  Eve rubbed a hand over the kitten. “Not as warm now as she was when I took her out of the box with the others.”

  “Okay, the first thing we need to do is warm her up. Why don’t you put her back in the box and make sure she’s on the heating pad. Put the other kittens right up against her to get her nice and snuggly.”

  Eve did as Josie said, trying not to notice how cold and empty her lap felt after she’d put the kitten back with her siblings. “Now what?”

  “Give her a minute,” Josie said gently. “How’s everything going otherwise?”

  “I’m tired.” Eve sounded irritable even to her own ears.

  “Do you believe in karma?” Josie asked.

  “No.”

  “Well, you’re doing a good deed,” Josie said. “And I like to think we reap what we sow.”

  “You know as well as I do that’s not always true.”

  Josie let out a little sound of disbelief. “Wow, you really are a cynical one, aren’t you?”

  “I have every reason to be.” Eve couldn’t believe they were even having this conversation. Briefly, she wished she hadn’t heard that cry in the trash can earlier. She never would have known these kittens existed. She could have gone about her evening as planned without four tiny lives weighing on her conscience.

  “Is she perking up at all yet?” Josie asked, shifting them back on topic.

  Eve looked into the box, where the white kitten was nuzzling at the stuffed cat Josie had given them. “A little, yes.”

  “Look in the box of supplies I sent over. You should find a toothbrush in there.”

  “A toothbrush?” Eve slid out of bed and peered into box of supplies. Did kittens this small even have teeth?

  “Yes,” Josie confirmed. “You can groom her with it. It feels like her mom licking her. That might help wake her up and get her ready to feed.”

  “Oh.” That actually made sense. Eve rummaged through the box until she found the toothbrush. She crawled back into bed, reaching in to rub the white kitten with its bristles. In response, the kitten began rooting around on the stuffed animal like she was trying to nurse. “I think it’s working.”

  “Great. You can feed her right there in the box if you want. Just make sure she’s in the right position, belly down, head up.”

  “Okay.” Eve pressed the phone between her cheek and her shoulder as she took the kitten’s head in her left hand, positioning her for feeding. She brought the syringe to her mouth, and the kitten began to suckle. “She’s eating.”

  “Yay,” Josie said softly. “You can rest one finger gently against her throat to make sure she’s swallowing. Just keep pressing the syringe really slowly to make sure you don’t overwhelm her with milk.”

  They fell quiet as Eve fed the kitten, successfully getting about two milliliters of formula into her. She wiped off the kitten’s face and set the box on the floor. Suddenly, Eve was alone in her bedroom in the middle of the night, on the phone with a woman she was uncomfortably attracted to. “I should go,” she said.

  “Call me tomorrow to let me know how they’re doing,” Josie said. “And get them in to see the vet.” She paused. “And don’t forget to weigh them. You need to make sure they’re gaining weight, preferably about ten grams a day.”

  “Okay.” Eve rubbed her brow, exhausted at the very thought. She’d have to bring the box of kittens with her to the office tomorrow, and that ought to go over well. “Thank you for your help.”

  “You’re welcome. Good night, Eve.”

  “Good night.” She set an alarm for two hours from now, shut off the light, and crawled under the covers. Lying in the dark, emptiness yawned inside her the way it always did, like she was slowly sinking into an endless void. Years of practice had taught her how to breathe past it, how to clear her mind to sleep, passing these lonely nighttime hours as quickly as possible.

  Josie woke to the sun streaming through her window and a warm, heavy presence on her chest. “Morning, Nigel,” she murmured, lifting a hand to rub the orange cat sprawled on top of her. In response, he started to purr, claws pricking at her shoulders as he expressed his pleasure.

  Her thoughts drifted to Eve, wondering how the rest of her night had gone and if she’d gotten any sleep. Josie had cared for so many kittens, sometimes she forgot how overwhelming it could be for someone without experience, especially someone like Eve, who’d never cared for an animal before.

  Actually, Josie wasn’t sure what a night with newborn kittens would be like for someone in Eve’s position. No wonder she’d balked at keeping them. Josie felt a wash of guilt for not being more sympathetic last night, but then again, she hadn’t really had a choice. She couldn’t give them the care they needed while she was working at Swanson’s, but maybe she’d be able to find another rescuer to take them today.

  To that end, she got up and got ready for her day, then called all her contacts in the rescue community, hoping someone had room for them. Nigel sprawled on the couch beside her, belly up, tail twitching as he vied for her attention. She reached over to rub him as she placed her last call, leaving a voicemail for a friend of hers who worked primarily in dog rescue but might be willing to take a litter of kittens, just this once.

  Then she dialed Eve.

  “Have you found someone to take them?” she said in lieu of hello.

  “Good morning to you too,” Josie said, fighting a smile. A sigh carried over the line, reminding her who she was talking to. “Not yet, but I’ve left a lot of voicemails, so something may still pan out.”

  Dead silence.

  “Eve,” Josie said, amusement fading fast. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  “Try harder,” Eve hissed. “There’s a box of kittens behind my desk right now. It’s unprofessional.”

  “Hey, I’m doing you a favor.” She tugged at a turquoise strand of hair, twirling it between her fingers. “You could at least pretend to be grateful for it.”

  “The way I see it, I’m doing you a favor, and my sense of philanthropy has dried up.”

  Josie opened her mouth and closed it again, feeling an uncharacteristic urge to smack something…or someone. “Wow. That’s cold, even for you.”

  More silence from Eve.

  Josie shouldn’t get her feelings hurt about this. After all, Eve had a reputation for being exactly like this. But for a few minutes yesterday in her kitchen, and again last night over the phone, Josie thought she’d glimpsed a soft
er, gentler version of television’s favorite ice queen. “Do you have any idea how animal rescue works?”

  “You know perfectly well I don’t,” Eve snapped, and Josie tried to remind herself that Eve was tired. She probably hadn’t gotten much sleep last night and was working a full day at the office today, kittens in tow. Still…

  “Well, here’s a quick rundown for you. Animal rescues are volunteer run. I don’t get paid for any of this. The donations I receive go straight to care and supplies for the kittens, and it usually isn’t enough to cover what I’ve already spent. I take in orphaned kittens because it’s something I feel passionate about, and it brings me joy when I’m able to save a tiny life. But here’s another uncomfortable truth…I can’t save them all. Do you have any idea how many phone calls I get from people like you?” She didn’t pause to wait for an answer.

  “It’s kitten season, Eve. There are more orphaned and abandoned kittens than we know what do to with this time of year, and if I could care for them all myself, I would, but I have to pay my bills too. I have a bar to run, and right now, I’m the only full-time bartender. I can’t even call out sick, because I’m the boss too. And yet, when you called, I invited you into my home, I showed you how to care for them, I gave you a box full of supplies, and I called everyone I know in animal rescue to try to find someone to take them for you.”

  Josie sucked in a breath. “Maybe it’s unprofessional to have a box of kittens behind your desk. It’s unfair that you’re stuck caring for them, but it’s also unfair for you to expect anything more from me than what I’ve already given you.”

  “Are you finished?” Eve asked.

  “Yes,” Josie said, cringing in anticipation of whatever verbal lashing she was about to receive in response to her lecture.

  “I’m sorry,” Eve said. “I guess I just thought of it as your job to take them, but that was wrong, and I apologize.”

  Josie blinked in surprise. “Oh.”

  “Are you absolutely certain I can’t take them to the animal shelter?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Josie told her. “I know for a fact we don’t have a shelter in the Manhattan area that’s equipped for bottle babies at the moment. Well, if you brought them in, they’d call me. I take as many as I can.”

  “But you can’t save them all,” Eve said quietly. “Got it.”

  “How are they today?”

  “Well, they’re still alive.”

  Josie smiled. “And how’s the little white one?”

  “Still the weakling of the group. I don’t know how to tell if she’s okay or not.”

  “They should see the vet today,” Josie reminded her, earning herself another weary sigh from Eve. “Tell you what. I have a few hours before the bar opens. What if I come get them and take them to the vet for you?”

  “I would appreciate that.”

  “Okay. Text me the address, and I’ll be there in a little while.” She ended the call and dialed her vet to make an appointment, then grabbed her laptop, because she didn’t intend to arrive at Eve’s office empty-handed.

  Thirty minutes later, she printed out a piece of paper she hoped might change her future. Eve had been willing to listen to a commonsense argument about animal rescue. Josie could only hope she was willing to open her mind one more time.

  She grabbed her bag and headed out, mapping the address Eve had sent her to see which subway line she should take to get there. What did Eve do in her office anyway? Josie had never been sure how much of reality shows like Do Over was real and how much was staged for TV, but she certainly wouldn’t have pictured its star working in an office when she wasn’t filming.

  Josie rode the A train into Manhattan and walked two blocks to a sleek gray building that certainly looked like it would house the offices for a television network. She gave her name at the front desk and was issued a visitor’s tag and told to take the elevator to the fourth floor.

  “Fancy,” she muttered under her breath as the sleekly polished elevator door slid shut behind her. This building was a world away from Swanson’s, which had admittedly seen better days. The doors slid open on the fourth floor, revealing a blindingly white reception area. White marble floors gleamed beneath white leather furniture. A glossy reception desk stood along the far wall, with the Life & Leisure logo hanging behind it. Determined not to feel out of place in her ripped jeans and aqua-tipped hair, Josie walked to the desk and gave her name.

  “Third door on the right,” the young receptionist told her without batting an eye. “She’s expecting you.”

  “Thank you.” Josie set off down the hall, locating Eve’s office easily. And…no wonder she hadn’t been thrilled about bringing the kittens with her to work. Josie paused in the doorway, taking in Eve’s workspace, which was as sleek—and white—as the rest of the building. Eve sat at her desk in a black sheath dress, hair pulled back from her face, fingers clattering over the keyboard of her laptop.

  Josie had never gone for the businesswoman type before, but damn, that dress was really working for her. Eve looked up, and Josie felt a ping in the pit of her stomach as their gazes locked. “Hi.”

  “Thank you for coming,” Eve said diplomatically, apparently having taken their earlier conversation to heart. “And I meant what I said last night. I’ll pay for it. You can have them call me with the bill.”

  “Well, since it’s a donation to the rescue, I won’t turn you down, and I really appreciate it.” Donations were practically nonexistent these days, apart from the small income that her YouTube channel still generated.

  Eve nodded toward the box on the floor behind her. “They’re so quiet, I keep thinking they’re dead.”

  “At their age, they mostly sleep between feedings.” Josie walked around the desk to crouch by the box. She reached in and stroked the gray kitten on top of the pile. “Are you sure you don’t want to name them?”

  “Positive.” Eve swiveled her chair to face Josie.

  Consequently, as she looked up, she was faced with a most distracting view of Eve’s legs, bare from the knee to her black heels. An infinity symbol was tattooed on her left ankle. “I usually let viewers on my channel name them for me, in exchange for a donation to the rescue.”

  “Then do that,” Eve said, crossing one tanned leg over the other.

  To keep herself from staring, Josie dropped her gaze to the box of kittens. Their little bellies were rounded from a recent feeding. And, oh my God, was that…? Josie lifted a piece of paper taped to the side of the box, on which Eve had documented their schedule and weight after each of their feedings.

  She cares.

  Josie couldn’t let it go to her head, because she still had an ulterior motive in coming here today, and it was probably going to involve pissing Eve off again. “You’re doing a great job with them.”

  “Despite what you may think, I don’t want them to die.”

  “I never thought you did,” Jose told her with a smile. “Or you would have taken them to the shelter and been done with it.”

  “I called the police this morning. They sent someone over to take my statement, although I didn’t get the feeling anything would come of it.”

  “Probably nothing will,” Josie agreed. “But it’s good that you got it on record. I meant to suggest it last night.” She stood, lifting the box, and set it on the corner of Eve’s desk. Now, she was standing close enough that Eve’s shoe bumped her jeans as she swiveled in her chair. Close enough to see the redness in her eyes and the shadows beneath them. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  “Not much,” Eve admitted.

  “Well, I’ll get them out of your hair for a few hours, anyway.”

  “Thank God.”

  Josie laughed, nudging Eve’s shoulder as she picked up the box of kittens. “Oh, please. Don’t even pretend you aren’t going to miss us.”

  5

  Eve’s knee bounced restlessly beneath her desk. She blinked past the grittiness in her eyes, focusing on the application
on the screen in front of her, a single mom selling handcrafted jewelry in an online marketplace. She seemed nice enough and had real talent with her jewelry, but unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot Eve could do for her, at least not within the context of the show. A big part of the draw for Do Over’s audience was the makeover at the end, when she debuted the client’s new space and held a splashy reopening event. Having a storefront was essential.

  She clicked on the next application, and a familiar face filled her screen. Josie had told her she’d applied to the show, but somehow, Eve hadn’t quite believed it until this moment. Why didn’t she remember receiving this application? Probably she’d taken one look at Josie’s business and moved on. Bars were an automatic “no” every single time.

  It’s not you, Josie. It’s me.

  Curious, Eve moved her cursor to the right and clicked on the video Josie had recorded to accompany her application. She sat on the couch in her living room, talking earnestly to the camera as she described how she’d inherited the bar from her father, how it had belonged to his parents before him, and how she was currently on the verge of losing it.

  Tears glistened in Josie’s eyes as photos appeared beside her on the screen, a slideshow of family pictures showing a middle-aged man with Josie’s same infectious smile pouring drinks behind the bar, a little girl with blonde pigtails reading a book on the floor behind it. The next photo showed young Josie gazing adoringly up at her father.

  “I grew up here,” present-day Josie told her. “This is what the bar used to look like on a Saturday night.” Footage showed a packed bar buzzing with the sounds of laughter and conversation. Josie and her father were side by side behind the bar, tirelessly mixing drinks. “And this is what it looks like on a Saturday night now.”

  She cut to a video showing about a third of the former crowd, empty stools everywhere. “Please help me save my bar. I run a popular YouTube channel and am very comfortable in front of a camera. I’m also a loyal viewer of your show, and I think Swanson’s would be a perfect fit for your audience. Thank you for your consideration.”